Charley Hull is the reason we watch professional golf
PACIFIC PALISADES, Calif. — You and I will never know what it’s like to compete in the US Open; look up the leaderboard to see ours a last name with a “1” next to it. One leader.
Charley Hull knows how it feels, but Charley is Charley. You never know what he will think, what he will say, what he will do. He is incredibly unpredictable. So when he walks off the 11th green, right after holding the first autograph all week, why wouldn’t he stop, mid-round, to sign a few autographs? And after a while, when he saw his name on the leaderboard, why didn’t under eight feel enough on a windy day at the US Open? Charley is Charley. He wanted to get to 10.
It doesn’t indeed the bottom line was that 10 under was not on the cards, for Hull or anyone else. Even the points he had at that time would be more in the playoffs. That’s not how he plays golf.
“If you always aim for the highest, the highest and just reach it, you’re going to do pretty well, if you get what I’m saying,” Hull reasoned out loud Sunday night, maybe three hours after signing those flags while holding the lead alone.
“Like great expectations,” he continued. “If I ever thought, ‘Oh, it’s seven [under] you will win,’ maybe I can finish five [under]. Do you hear what I’m trying to say?”
Oh, we get it. The mentality there says a lot about Hull – how he plays the game and how he lives his life. But it’s all the main reason why we listen to you. He is, as the kids say, all gas, no brakes. Rope hooks and pullbacks. He gets a bounce in his step when the putts go in. He frowns at the hole if it doesn’t fit. On a tour where a fist pump can be hard to come by, Hull’s courage is not only welcome – it’s much needed. His attitude on Saturday was two words long: “F—k it” – targeting every flag with reckless violence. And on Sunday?
“Today was ‘F—k it’, for sure,” she said. “Just go, you know what I mean?”
In that Midlands English accent, he breaks through those five words.You know what I mean?
Hull admitted that the opening rounds of the tournament make him feel trapped, when the course is full of threesomes and you have to be patient. But he goes out on the weekend, when there is a place to run and leaders to chase.
“I love playing golf like that,” he said.
And Charley, we love watching it.
At 30 years of age, Hull’s status in the game outstrips his victories. His record is modest – three wins on the LPGA Tour, five in Europe, zero majors – but his lifestyle is impressive. You have to watch. When he hits a shot he likes, he doesn’t look at it. It’s a race with no one to beat him as fast as possible. He struggles to find motivation in non-major weeks – where the numbers aren’t so good – an admission that will no doubt be returned to him until he wins one. But that’s Charley’s take on the fight. He tells you everything. Like three years ago, when he finished second at Pebble Beach and, instead of ‘Fk it’, he had an even better north star: Shy girls don’t get sweets.
If anything, Hull are unique against the man they beat on Sunday. When Nelly Korda says ‘F—k’ it’s only in a hushed voice after a bad drive. Hull says excitedly in front of the microphone. Korda is careful about how much golf he plays. Hull left the Riviera for a three-day golf trip with her boyfriend. Korda was raised by two professional athletes and attended the IMG Academy, where professionals are trained. Hull left school at 13 and became a champion at 16. Korda’s father, Petr, is very present, often flying nervously through the crowd. Hull’s family does not travel the world with him. Instead, it was her cousin, Jodie, as her relative present this week, and the one who persuaded Charley to take her to Malibu. This being her first trip to Los Angeles, Jodie wanted to see if Malibu was just the way Hollywood made it out to be – beaches and all. Charley’s retelling of the story is making headlines, because it is.
On Saturday night, their sidequest required braving Sunset Boulevard traffic for B-level Mexican food at a hilltop restaurant with an A-plus view of the city. It was totally worth the trip, Jodie said. But about 24 hours later, the good vibes changed. When Charley signed off for the week at seven under, they watched the final rounds on television in the back room of the clubhouse, hearing the roar of Korda’s winning putt before it was played on the screen.
“It’s just,” began cousin Jodie, “you feel sick.”
That’s Hull’s second-best finish in the majors, first zero. Charley called it frustrating and annoying, but he has no plans to change his charming ways. If anything, he said he could use ‘F it’ mode even earlier in the future. His next chance to do it, and our next chance to enjoy it, is only three weeks away.
